


the hole in my heart (my whole heart)

by worthitandchill



Category: Buzzfeed: Worth It (Web Series)
Genre: Adam Knows All, Established Relationship, Fluff, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Minor Angst, Podfic Available
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 02:19:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15086897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worthitandchill/pseuds/worthitandchill
Summary: Andrew's not soft.“Say that again,” Steven whispers, fingers curling through the hair on the nape of his neck. It pulls Andrew out of his mounting panic instantly.“Absolutely not,” he says, mortification washing over him instead.





	the hole in my heart (my whole heart)

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally supposed to be a quick one-shot based on some ideas that [EJ](https://adamdrews.tumblr.com/) and I had earlier in the year, but it ended up getting away from me. 
> 
> Thank you to both my most wonderful and fantastic betas EJ and [Grace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/generally), as well as [Leo](https://softilnyckyj.tumblr.com), the yin to my yang. None of this would be possible without the three of you.
> 
> This fic is dedicated to the Worth It discord. Love you guys.
> 
> And, finally, for anyone interested, I have a playlist specifically curated for this fic. You can find it [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/coucz4rrue8ssh6o6uy8g7t9g/playlist/0xK2shUazHZQh7I8PWCqmo).

 

The first time it happens, they’re in Minnesota for the Super Bowl episode.

Everything was great. Filming went smoothly, the food was fantastic, and it was nice to be able to eat one of the meals in the comfort of “home.” The whole trip had been incredible, actually, just the three of them running around in the snow and eating food so delicious that Andrew’s mouth is still watering at the thought of it, even hours later.

“We ate too much today,” he says after they finally settle down for the night, face smushed into the mountain of pillows piled on the king-sized bed. Steven is puttering around the master bedroom, repacking his dirty clothes and checking to make sure everything is kept tidy and together.

" _You_ ate too much today,” he corrects Andrew, right before he settles onto the bed next to him.

Andrew rolls onto his side, shoving one of his arms under his pillow for leverage. Steven’s hair is damp from the shower, lying flat across his forehead, and Andrew can’t help but reach forward and muss it up.

“I guess,” he says, watching how Steven rolls his eyes fondly, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Warmth blooms through Andrew’s chest, so full of affection that it makes him short of breath. They’ve only been dating for a little while now, after Steven had kissed him back at the hotel in Tokyo, when they were jet-lagged and tipsy from the sake Rie had randomly procured from the expensive ramen bar. Things had finally come to a head after they’d spent the entire season dancing around each other, tension mounting high enough that Adam had been a few days short of locking them in a closet together to sort out their frustrations.

It was pretty close to perfect, now. They’d fallen into a rhythm with managing their relationship and filming the show, aiming for subtlety in order to keep _Worth It_ about the food, rather than about them.  

Andrew lets out a gentle sigh, his hand slipping down to cradle Steven’s cheek. It’s been a while since he’s felt this content, this at home with someone else. He pauses, and then shifts closer, tucking himself up against Steven’s body. Steven doesn’t even hesitate in folding his arms around Andrew, pulling him until they’re flush together, wrapped up in each other’s embrace.

Something surges up inside Andrew, a rush to tell Steven absolutely _everything_. Every thought, every feeling he has for him, but they’re so scrambled up that he doesn’t know where to start, doesn’t even know what to consider.

_You make me laugh harder than anyone else, I love the way the sun shines through your hair, you’re the person I want to spend the rest of my life with._

Andrew inhales, sharp and shuddery. It’s not even that profound of a realization; he’s had all of these thoughts before, entertaining brief images of the future on the rare chances he gets to daydream, imagining what kind of life they could live together.

“Steven,” he says, quietly, urgently. His face is pressed into the collar of Steven’s shirt, close enough that he can feel Steven’s pulse against his cheek. “I love you. I love you so much, it drives me crazy.”

There’s a pause, Steven suddenly going rigid against him, and he wonders if he’s messed this up, if he misread the situation and said something horribly wrong. Maybe it was too early, or Steven didn’t feel the same way—

“Say that again,” Steven whispers, fingers curling through the hair on the nape of his neck. It pulls Andrew out of his mounting panic instantly.

“Absolutely not,” he says, mortification washing over him instead. He can feel how hot his cheeks are, positive that his entire face is several shades of red.

“Are you _embarrassed_?”

Andrew makes a strangled noise, half in answer and half in protest, and then Steven’s dragging him closer, smiling against the top of his head.

“M’not embarrassed,” he says, sounding pathetic to his own ears.

“You’re totally embarrassed! It’s okay, I love you too.” Steven squeezes him, and then in a surprising show of strength, rolls them over so he’s on his back and Andrew is sprawled against his chest.

“I like when you say mushy stuff. It’s nice, to just be reminded that we’re in love.”

“Ugh!” Andrew wiggles on top of him, trying to get his arm out from where it’s trapped between their bodies. “I don’t know how you can just say stuff like that.”

“You started it!”

“I did not. I’m nowhere near as soft as you are.”

That makes Steven laugh, fingers trailing down the back of Andrew’s neck, just below the collar of his shirt. He tries not to shiver too much.

“Oh, Andrew, you’re _so_ soft. The softest person I’ve ever met,” Steven says, right before he presses a kiss to his hair.

Andrew grins, trying to hide it against the side of Steven’s throat. “Stop being so loud,” he says, rubbing his stubble against the sensitive skin there. “You’ll wake up Adam.”

“He should be so lucky to join us.”

“You wish,” Andrew says, and Steven laughs again. Things are so easy between them, so natural, that it feels almost inevitable for them to end up like this; curled against each other, warm and content and _together_.

Andrew shifts up, presses his forearms on either side of Steven’s head, his elbows sinking into the thick pillows. Steven smiles at him, serene and a little sleepy, but there’s something else there, something bigger and brighter than Andrew has ever seen before.

When he leans down and kisses him, Andrew makes sure to close his eyes so he doesn’t go blind.

 

* * *

 

Here’s the thing: Andrew’s not soft.

Steven just brings out this side of him, a side he didn’t even know he _had_. He makes Andrew’s emotions swell and overflow, until he’s afraid that his heart is going to burst from the intensity of it all. It’s equal parts shocking and thrilling, because nobody has ever made him feel like this before. It’s only ever been Steven.

It comes out at the worst times, too. Like when they’re filming and Steven throws his head back to laugh, shadows curving across his throat, and Andrew’s overcome with the insatiable urge to lean forward and set his teeth into Steven’s skin. It borders on animalistic, the desire so strong it makes his mouth water.

“Something must be wrong with me,” he tells Annie, when they’re taking a break from one of Steven’s between-season planning sessions. They’d managed to organize their itinerary for Canada, which was a give and take between Steven wanting to plan everything down to the minute, and Andrew fighting for at least a little bit of freedom to explore.

“More so than usual?” she asks, smiling when Andrew scoffs.

“It’s Steven,” he says, choosing to take the highroad and ignore her jab. This seems to get her attention, as she sets her phone down on her desk, a wave of concern passing across her face.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Andrew says. He runs a hand over his face, a poor attempt to cover the color rising in his cheeks. “He just… makes me feel things.”

It takes two seconds before Annie bursts out laughing, loud enough that a few heads pop up from behind their computers, people trying to see what could have possibly made her laugh so hard. Andrew scowls in response.

“You’re in a relationship, I would _hope_ he makes you feel things,” Annie says, once she’s settled down a little bit. She’s still grinning, though it’s more tender and less teasing now.

“I know, but it’s just… weird? He called me soft. Am I soft?” Andrew looks at her, expecting her to laugh again, or brush off his question with a casual “no, of course not.” Instead, Annie looks thoughtful, leaning back in her chair, resting her cheek in her hand.

“Hm, yeah. Especially for Steven.”

“What? _No_.”

That makes Annie outright giggle.

“What’s so wrong with being soft?” she asks. “I know your masculinity isn’t that fragile.”

Andrew shifts in his seat, huffing. “I’m more than comfortable in my masculinity, thank you,” he says, glancing up when someone shuffles past. “I’ve just never been called ‘soft’ before.”

“You’re a teddy bear.”

“Funny.”

“All bark and no bite.”

“ _Hilarious_ , Annie.”

Steven chooses that moment to bound over, patting his hands against his jeans. “They’re out of paper towels in the bathroom,” he says, completely oblivious to the conversation they were just having. They quickly change topics, and Andrew tries not to show too much relief.

It still feels like he’s teetering on the edge of a revelation, especially when Steven leans down and presses a quick kiss to his temple, a quiet show of affection. Andrew catches his wrist when Steven pulls away, threading their fingers together and kissing the back of Steven’s hand. It’s instinctual at this point: they have an effective give and take for everything, including intimate gestures.

Annie gives him a pointed look afterwards, a silent “see what I mean?”, and Andrew resists the urge to stick his tongue out at her. It doesn’t help that Steven swoops in a moment later, like he’s going in for another kiss, and whispers in Andrew’s ear—

“Do that again?”

Andrew snorts, leaning back so that they can look at each other.

“Absolutely not.”

“What? Come on!” Steven staggers backwards dramatically, hip-checking the desk on accident. “You’re so mean to me.”

“We’re at work,” Andrew points out. Steven smacks a hand over his heart.

“You wound me.”

“I’m protecting our jobs.”

“They’d be homophobic to fire us.”

Andrew laughs, against his better judgement. It only encourages Steven, who eats up the attention, looking triumphant even when Andrew covers his mouth with his hand.

“They’d also be losing two of their biggest money makers,” Annie says, then pauses, looking considerate. “...and me. I’d go if you two go.”

Steven gasps, looking some mixture of honored and delighted. “Annie,” he says, folding his arms over the back of her chair. “You’d quit your job for us?”

“I’d quit my job if the company turned homophobic.”

As Andrew watches them talk, he can’t help but feel at peace. Like this is where he was truly meant to be, his life culminating to this one point in particular; at BuzzFeed, surrounded by friends, planning when and where they’d be traveling for the rest of the year. Or, maybe, this isn’t the peak, because they’re only going up, things are only getting better. The first step into the future.

Andrew watches how Steven laughs, his lips curving into a smile, eyes wide and full of more excitement than any one person should be able to experience. The situation is so mundane, so drab and commonplace, an office that lacks any form of privacy, with their coworkers either eavesdropping or trying to pretend they don’t exist. And yet Steven looks so _happy_ , so much more alive than anyone else in the room. He’s animated, waving his arms around dramatically, shooting Andrew short, sweet glances, like they’re passing secrets in the silence between breaths.

 _I love you_ , Andrew thinks. It’s not something he usually says first, or at all, really.

Not unless he means it.

 

* * *

 

They start filming season four about a week later. It’s way more traveling than any of the other seasons as they skip around the U.S., even going into Canada for some poutine. Their schedule is tightly packed everywhere they go, because they’re no longer just steamrolling through all three dishes in one day. They eat fish in Hawaii, but also film at one of the Pho locations, and then the bacon episode is torn between L.A. and New York, which was one of the first foods they started filming for, and it takes them a month before they’re even getting to the last location.

It’s not a bad thing, necessarily, but it’s more confusing to work around when they’re supposed to choose their Worth It Winners. Steven doesn’t seem to care, though, happily eating whatever food is placed in front of them, to the point that Andrew wondered if it was even appropriate to put on YouTube.

“You need to stop moaning when you eat on camera,” Andrew says, when they’re sprawled out across his couch, too caught up in each other to pay any attention to whatever movie Steven chose. He’s technically only over to help Andrew pack for New York, but it’s rare to have a night just to themselves, where they don’t have to worry about anything else.

Steven moves his head back from where he’d been sucking an impressive hickey against Andrew’s collarbone. “What?” he says, and Andrew tries not to focus on how pink and swollen his lips are. “Why are you even thinking about that? You’re not supposed to be thinking about work right now.”

He shimmys his hips to punctuate the statement, looking smug when Andrew has a full body shudder. Andrew moves his hand under Steven’s shirt in retaliation, tracing his fingers across his ribs, and smirks when Steven sighs happily.

“You were moaning in my ear and it reminded me of when we were filming earlier.” Andrew says, right before he runs his thumb over Steven’s nipple, just to hear him do it again. Steven shoots him a dirty look.

“Why’s it matter?” he asks. “Are you jealous? Do you want me all to yourself?”

He attempts to wiggle his eyebrows seductively, but it just makes Andrew crack up, and then Steven starts giggling, too. The movie continues to play in the background, quiet explosions and shouts going ignored as Andrew wraps his arms around Steven’s back and pulls him down against his chest. Steven settles easily, half-tucked between Andrew and the back of the couch, his warm breath ghosting over the slow-forming bruise at the base of Andrew’s throat.

Steven’s not wrong, is the thing. Andrew doesn’t consider himself to be exceedingly selfish, but there’s something about Steven that makes him greedy. There’s this horrible sense of satisfaction that overcomes Andrew each time he thinks about how he’s Steven’s first choice. It’s alright; Steven’s always his first choice, too.

“I always want you all to myself,” Andrew says, hand curling around the back of Steven’s neck. He already knows what Steven’s going to say, can practically hear the delight in his voice, can already feel the warmth of it sinking into his skin.

“Andrew!” There’s a particular loud explosion on the tv, which causes both of them to flinch, Steven’s fingernails digging into his upper arm for a moment before he relaxes.

“Mm?”

“Say that again?”

Andrew can’t even stop himself from smiling. “I’m always the one saying nice stuff to you,” he says, pretending to pout. “Why don’t you ever say anything nice to me?”

Steven laughs, hiding his face against Andrew’s shoulder. “I say nice stuff to you all the time,” he says, trailing his hand down Andrew’s arm, until their fingers are intertwined. “You just don’t listen.”

Andrew scoffs. “Yeah, right. Name one time.”

“In Hawaii last week, when you were tearing apart the bag of bones and I was trying to be romantic.”

“That’s your fault for trying to be romantic when I’m eating.”

Steven laughs again. “Fine,” he says, shifting so that he can prop his chin on Andrew’s chest and look at him. “Do you want me to say something nice to you now?”

“Sure.”

A grin breaks out across Steven’s face, and he gives Andrew’s hand a squeeze.

“You’re so hot, honey.”

Andrew pauses, thinking the compliment over for a moment, before he snorts and rolls onto his side, effectively pinning Steven between him and the back of the couch.

“Did you just make a ‘hot honey’ joke?” he asks, resisting the urge to lean forward and kiss Steven breathless.

“Yeah. Now you can really say someone’s called you that before.”

Andrew does kiss him, then. It’s happy and safe and warm, Steven sliding his leg over Andrew’s, pulling him closer until they’re fully slotted together. Steven sighs into his mouth, the ghost of a smile making his lips curve, and it just makes Andrew kiss him harder, wanting to keep this moment forever.

By the time they untangle themselves from one another, the credits of the movie are rolling, and Andrew is in desperate need of a cold shower if they plan on getting any packing done tonight.

“You’re so good to me,” he says, when Steven rolls off the couch and pads towards the kitchen. He looks properly debauched; mouth swollen red, hair sticking up every which way, a noticeable tent in his athletic shorts.

“You’re only saying that because you want me to get you some water.”

“Oh, you’re smart, too. I really got the whole package, didn’t I?”

“Flattery gets you nowhere,” Steven says, but there’s the telltale clink of ice hitting glass, and Andrew smirks as he sinks back into the couch.

When Steven comes back, he sets two glasses of water on the coffee table, and then slides back into his previous spot, wiggling until he’s under Andrew’s arm.

“Flattery gets me everywhere,” Andrew says, pressing his thumb into the sensitive spot behind Steven’s ear. “Especially with you.”

Steven just smiles and turns his head, kissing the curve of Andrew’s jaw.

“Yeah,” he says, and there’s a touch of softness in his tone that warms Andrew from the inside out. “I’m pretty easy, when it comes to you.”

They have so much to do, so many errands to run and things to get ready before they leave, but with the glow of the tv illuminating them, Andrew just kisses Steven again and savors the moment before it’s over.

 

* * *

 

New York is their last big location before they’re done filming season four. They’re beyond busy, rushing between locations and constantly checking everything over to make sure they have enough useable footage for the in-betweens. It’s refreshing at the same time, to be immersed in a new city, seeing and experiencing so many amazing things for the first time.

Steven seems to love it the most out of all of them, eyes shining with wonder and bliss each time they eat at a new restaurant. It makes Andrew’s heart ache in the best way possible.

“This was the best season yet, I think,” Steven says, when they’re taking an Uber back to the hotel. He’s squished in the middle again, legs sprawled out in both Andrew and Adam’s space, and he’s draped across Andrew’s side.

“You said that last season,” Andrew says, barely dodging the flick Steven aims at his ear.

“Because last season _was_ the best season, at least at the time.” Steven sighs happily and sinks lower into the seat. “The Peking duck today was so good. I’m glad we could do something like that.”

“Me too,” Andrew agrees. Peking duck in particular had been important to Steven, and once the higher-ups started to loosen the reins a little bit, Steven had jumped on the chance to have dishes from his childhood on the show.

“I miss the whole roasted pig from yesterday,” Adam says, sounding morose. He’s got his backpack in his lap, with his chin resting on top of it. There’s a far away look in his eyes, too, like he was fantasizing about the feast from the day before.

Steven laughs, and shifts so that he’s sprawled on Adam’s shoulder. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re the best camera-sound guy in the entire world?”

“So I’ve been told.” Adam’s lips quirk up with the hint of a smile. The whole thing is comforting, the familiarity of the exchange sinking into Andrew’s skin, straight to his heart. He hasn’t felt so warm in years, surrounded by the people he cares for the most.

Steven sits up after a moment, the light from the passing buildings and cars illuminating his face, making the flush in his cheeks more pronounced. They’d gone to a few bars after they’d wrapped up filming and dropped all their stuff off at the hotel, meeting up with a few of Annie and Steven’s friends from the New York office in order to share a round of drinks to celebrate finishing the season. Annie had ended up staying behind, promising she’d be back at a decent hour and to not wait up for her.

“Today was fantastic,” Steven says, when they pull up to the hotel and pile out of the car, waving goodbye to their driver.

“Full of exclamations tonight, aren’t we?” Andrew teases, right before he catches Steven’s elbow and tugs him closer, until they’re pressed flushed together. Steven just grins at him, unabashedly staring at his lips, blushing an even darker shade of red, and yeah, wow, Steven is way more intoxicated than Andrew realized.

“How many drinks did you even _have_?” he asks as he guides Steven towards the entrance. Adam had already gone ahead, checking his phone while he waited for them in the lobby.

Steven says “not that many” at the exact same time Adam says “four,” and Andrew would laugh if Steven didn’t look so guilty. Like he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, or something.

“You don’t have to lie, I’m not going to punish you.” Andrew glances at a large group of people walking past them, and then lowers his voice. “...unless that’s what you want.”

Steven’s answering “ _Andrew!_ ” is more than enough to keep him grinning for the entire elevator ride up to their room. Andrew shoos Steven inside once they get the door unlocked, promising to come to bed once he smooths out tomorrow’s schedule with Adam.

“So a little birdie told me something,” Adam says, once they’re safely in his room and he’s digging his laptop out of his bag.

“Something you care to share with the rest of the class?”

“As long as you promise not to tell Steven.”

That gets Andrew’s attention. He sits up straighter, quirking an eyebrow as he watches Adam settle onto the other bed.

“Must be serious then,” Andrew says. He’s careful to keep his tone controlled and neutral, fighting against the worry climbing up through his ribs.

“More gossip than anything else.” Adam bites his lower lip, glancing at Andrew before he continues. “I don’t want to get his hopes up, but Jade was telling me that there’s a rumor going around the New York office that they’re about to offer Steven a higher-paying position.”

It takes a moment for Adam’s words to sink in, but once they do, it feels like the room falls out from under Andrew, the future he’d been looking forward to dissolving instantaneously. Then he thinks of Steven in the other room, hopefully cleaned up and curled in bed, sleepily waiting for Andrew to join him. It’s almost enough to make his hands shake.

“It’d be a big thing to offer, especially if it puts _Worth It_ on the line,” Adam says quickly, when the silence starts to stretch for too long. There’s a crease between his brows, like he’s been worrying about it, too. “And, I mean, it’s not like they’ve even offered anything to him yet…”

Andrew sighs, and brings a hand up to rub at his eyes. He feels exhausted, like he aged ten years in the span of a few minutes. He’s not exceptionally selfish, he _knows_ this, but the idea of Steven leaving, of them trying to do long distance—

He stops that train of thought before he has a panic attack in front of Adam.

“Why wouldn’t they offer it to him, though? He’s incredible.” Andrew runs his hand down his face, fingers splayed across his cheek. He still hasn’t taken his jacket off, the collar pulled nearly up to his ears from the biting wind outside, and if he focuses, he can catch a hint of the body wash Steven likes to use lingering on the fabric.

 _If Steven gets the offer, and he accepts, this is what it’ll be like. Finding traces of him in your bed, in your clothes, even when he’s thousands of miles away_.

Andrew’s throat constricts.

“That doesn’t mean he would accept,” Adam points out. He’s sitting up fully now, laptop pushed out of his lap. Concern is dripping from his expression, so much so that Andrew’s sure he could bottle it up and save it for any future pity-parties.

“He loves New York, not to mention if the position is better, and higher-paying…” Andrew says, and then trails off, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Why wouldn’t he accept?”

“Because he wouldn’t want to leave you behind.”

And, Christ, Adam’s words hit Andrew like a punch to the gut. He’s not wrong; if Andrew asked, Steven would stay with him. He’d stay in LA and they’d keep doing _Worth It,_ living in a blissful cycle of food and sex and travel. They’d be happy.

But stagnant.

“Well,” Andrew says, because he doesn’t know how to properly respond, “we’ll just have to cross that bridge when we get to it.”

Adam gives him a small smile, one that’s tight around the corners of his eyes. There’s regret lingering in his expression, like he wishes he hadn’t told Andrew. Maybe he shouldn’t have. All Andrew is going to do now is worry, the idea of Steven leaving for New York guaranteed to gnaw at the back of his mind for the next six months.

They finish going over the itinerary after that, planning out what to do with the extra day they have padded into the schedule. Andrew’s barely even listening when he agrees to wake up early enough to go find some café and skip the hotel breakfast. All he can think about is Steven. Steven in his bed, in his arms, in New York.

Afterwards, when he’s finished getting ready for bed, and slips under the covers behind Steven, he presses a lingering kiss to the freckle on the back of his neck.

“I’d follow you to the ends of the earth,” Andrew says, lips brushing against the small trail of hair beside it. He startles a little bit when Steven stirs, twisting around in his arms so that he can bury his face against Andrew’s chest.

“Say that again?” Steven asks, words slurred with a mixture of sleep and alcohol. Andrew smiles.

“Go back to sleep, we’re getting up early for breakfast tomorrow,” he says.

Steven sighs into his shirt, and Andrew closes his eyes.

 

* * *

 

Things are quiet for about a month. Andrew starts to relax in increments, until he’s only tensing up whenever Steven bounds in the room looking ridiculously happy. Which is pretty often, actually, so.

Andrew’s doing as well as he can, given the situation.

It isn’t until March is coming to a close that Andrew starts to let out the breath he’d been holding since their last night of filming in New York. Season four has been well-received so far, hitting number one on Youtube Trending nearly every week, and they’d been greenlit for a fifth season before the first episode even aired. Steven seemed _happy_. Delighted, even.

Things are going so great that Andrew even goes far enough to get an extra key made, which is something he should have done months ago, honestly. He knows Steven’s lease is up at the end of May, and he’s already over at Andrew’s apartment half the time anyway…

“Do you want to come over for dinner tonight?” Andrew asks Steven, when they’re hiding in the back of the Tasty kitchens on their lunch break.

Steven hums for a moment, carefully reading the cook time for a pack of pizza rolls they found in the bottom of one of the freezers. “Sure,” he says, without looking up. “What are you making?”

“Pasta, probably. Adam sent me a new recipe a few days ago.” Andrew shoves his hand in his pocket, fingers curling around the warm metal key he had made over the weekend. The question sits at the tip of his tongue, ready to spill out into the comfortable silence between them, a quick and quiet _hey, Steven—_

“The garlic butter shrimp pasta? I’m pretty sure he CC’d the entire Tasty team on that one,” Steven says. He’s leaned over the stove now, clumsily pressing at the buttons, trying to figure out how to get the timer going.

Andrew snorts, pulling his hand out of his pocket and jumping down from the counter, brushing Steven’s hand away in order to speed up the process.

“And here I was thinking I was special,” Andrew says, right before he turns his head and puts on his best pouty face. It makes Steven laugh.

“You’re special to me,” Steven says, and then leans forward and kisses Andrew on the cheek. Andrew turns his head just a little bit further, until their lips are slotted together and he’s kissing Steven as sweetly as he can.

They nearly burn the pizza rolls, but it gets Andrew’s mind off of the whole moving-in thing, at least for a little while. It’s not like Steven’s going to say no, Andrew _knows_ that, but the idea of them moving in together, only to have Steven get offered the job in New York… it terrifies him. Steven might say yes. He might leave, kissing Andrew goodbye and moving onto something bigger and better, chasing after his dreams without a second thought.

Or, worst of all, he might say _no_. He might say no because of Andrew.

“Fuck you for telling me about it, Adam,” Andrew mumbles to the empty air of his bathroom, when he’s pretending not to be hiding after they finish dinner. The food was good, and the wine Steven picked up was even better, and now Andrew should be enjoying a pleasant buzz while curled up on the couch with Steven, but he’s having an emotional meltdown instead.

 _Your midlife crisis is going to destroy you_ , he thinks as he inspects himself in the mirror. The extra key is in his pocket, practically burning a hole through it. Andrew can’t stop thinking about it, half-tempted to just flush it down the toilet and call it a day, but that’d just be a waste of money, and Andrew’s nothing if not sensible. He groans and hangs his head, squeezing his eyes shut.

Okay. He can do this.

Steven’s still on the couch when Andrew walks back in the room, wrapped up in a blanket and scrolling through his phone. He looks pleasantly relaxed, giving Andrew a warm, sated smile when he settles into the spot next to Steven.

“Andrew,” Steven says, moving the blanket so that it’s draped over both of them. He shuffles closer together, half-sinking into the crease between the cushions, just so he can lay his cheek on top of Andrew’s head. “Thanks for dinner, it was great. Do you mind if I stay here tonight?”

“You don’t have to ask,” Andrew says. “You know I’ll always say yes.”

“Maybe I just like hearing you say it.”

“You’re such a sap,” Andrew mumbles, and then they both go quiet. It’s easy like this, just the two of them, without any words. Now would be the perfect time to ask, to pull the key out and press it into Steven’s hand, offering him everything Andrew has.

Andrew almost does, too. He opens his mouth, breathes out a soft sigh, and then—

“I need to tell you something,” Steven whispers, lips just barely moving against Andrew’s hair. “Something big. Really, really big.”

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck_ , Andrew thinks, and then says, as calmly as possible, “yeah, go ahead. I’m all ears.”

Steven inhales, deep and steadying. It makes Andrew’s heart sink to his feet.

“I got offered a promotion. One in New York. For when my lease is up at the end of the month.”

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!_

“Really?” Andrew says, desperately trying to hide the horror in his tone. Steven moves even closer, wrapping his arms around Andrew fully.

All Andrew can think about is the key in his pocket, feeling how it’s turned sideways, the shallow teeth digging into his skin through the thin fabric.

“Yeah, after lunch today. Ben called me to talk about it.” Steven’s voice is shaky, even worse than Andrew’s. Like it’s been eating him up inside.

How typical, for things to work out this way. Andrew can feel the future just barely slipping past his fingers, threads of it brushing against his skin, teasing. It’s not like he’s not happy; New York is a _huge_ development, the kind of promotion a lot of producers dream of. There’s a part of Andrew that’s rejoicing, already thinking of all the opportunities Steven will get if he accepts.

That part is just hidden under the crushing weight of anxiety and uncertainty.

“What’d you say?” Andrew asks.

“That I’d think about it,” Steven says. “That I don’t want to make any hasty decisions. I have a future in L.A. that I want to think about.”

Andrew’s heart skips a beat when Steven says that. He pulls the blankets tighter around them, and wills himself not to break apart.

“A future that’s better than New York?”

“A future with you is the best one I can imagine.”

“Who says I’m going anywhere?” Andrew asks, softly. Shifting back, he levels Steven with the most comforting look he can manage, trying to ignore the tears burning the back of his eyes. “I’ll still be here, waiting for you. Who knows how long the New York offer stands.”

Andrew watches how Steven chews his bottom lip, rolling it between his teeth nervously. He reaches up and slides his hand around the back of Steven’s neck, a comforting weight. Something to ground him.

“Ben gave me until Sunday to think about it,” Steven says. His eyes go heavy-lidded when Andrew uses his thumb to rub a soothing pattern into his skin. “And… I don’t know what to do.”

He sounds so broken, saying that. It knocks the air straight from Andrew’s lungs.

“I’ll support you, no matter what you decide to do. I promise. You mean the entire world to me.”

Steven smiles, then. Small and a little unsure, but definitely there. It helps Andrew relax, pushing his own concerns to the side in order to focus on Steven. This isn’t all about him.

“Say that again?” he asks.

Andrew just shakes his head affectionately, giving him a quick kiss. “I think you heard me alright the first time,” he says, lips brushing against Steven’s with every word.

Steven tilts his head, kissing Andrew again, brief and heartfelt. When he pulls away, there’s moisture at the corner of his eyes.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t try.”

 

* * *

 

The rest of the week drags by agonizingly slow, every little thing pinging Andrew’s anxiety, until he’s a shaking, exhausted mess on Sunday. They talked about it a few more times, discussing the pros and cons of the position, and Andrew had to pretend that it didn’t eat him up inside. Long distance for them really wouldn’t be horrible. _Worth It_ would require them to be together to film, and the company promised to pay for any extra traveling expenses in that regard.

There would still be months they’d go without seeing each other, where they would have to plan the next season through shared Google Docs and late-night phone calls. Where Andrew would have to fall asleep alone in bed, trying to make himself believe everything was alright. They’d have to pay out-of-pocket to see each other when they wanted to, and flights between the two cities weren’t exactly cheap.

But Andrew was also getting ahead of himself. Steven hadn’t technically made up his mind yet, or if he did, he wasn’t telling Andrew until after he talked to Ben.

“I’ll pick up dinner and head over after I finish the call,” Steven had said, right before he left Andrew’s apartment in order to go water his plants and have an incredibly important and incredibly private conversation. “I promise. Also, I love you. No matter what decision I make.”

Which was such a Steven thing to say, to reassure Andrew that he still loved him, as if he didn’t constantly show it every second of every day. It almost made Andrew laugh, teasing words on the back of his tongue, but he swallowed them down just as quick. It wasn’t exactly a laughing matter.

It takes Steven two and a half hours to get back, a bag of Din Tai Fung dumplings under one arm. All it takes is one look at his face to know how the conversation went. There’s a light red ring around Steven’s eyes, like he’d cried recently. The thought sends stabbing pain through Andrew’s heart.

“How’d it go?” he asks, when Steven starts unloading the food onto Andrew’s small dining table.

“It went really well,” Steven says. His voice catches, just a little bit.

“Then why were you crying?”

Steven quickly brings a hand up to his face, rubbing just beneath his eyes. “You can tell?” he asks, embarrassed.

Andrew takes a pair of plates out of the cabinet, and then digs through the silverware drawer for the reusable chopsticks Niki got him as part of his birthday gift last year. When he sets them on the table next to the dumplings, he lets his gaze slide over Steven, taking in his slightly disheveled appearance.

He looks like he’d grown in the past few hours.

“You’re not exactly subtle,” Andrew says, which makes Steven let out a huff of laughter. It’s dry and humorless, and Andrew almost winces at the sound.

“It was the hardest decision I’ve made in my entire life,” Steven says.

“I love you, and I’m beyond proud of you. You know that right?”

Steven smiles, a little ruefully. “I know,” he says. “But it wouldn’t hurt for you to say it again.”

Andrew just presses his cheek against Steven’s shoulder, and then they don’t really talk after that. They eat in near silence, sitting across from each other, throwing out mundane topics that get answered half-heartedly. Andrew can see a mixture of doubt and uncertainty in Steven’s eyes, but behind all that, there’s a spark of _something_.

Excitement, maybe. Excitement at the prospect of being offered so much.

Andrew can’t be mad at him for it, doesn’t even want to be mad. Steven was getting the chance of a lifetime, an option to help further his career as a video producer beyond anything he’d be able to achieve in Los Angeles. This could be his breakthrough. Steven would make it his breakthrough.

Later, when they’re doing the dishes side by side, Andrew washing and Steven drying, Steven whispers, “I took the job. I’m moving to New York.”

It doesn’t hurt any less to hear it, but Andrew just hands Steven another clean plate, blinking to keep the wetness from his eyes.

“I know,” Andrew says. He squeezes the excess water out of the sponge, watching how Steven meticulously dries the dishes before setting them on the rack beside the sink. It’s one of the most domestic moments they’ve shared—hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder.

Together.

 

* * *

 

It’s a flurry of activity after Steven makes the decision to take the job, packing up all of his things and selling any furniture that’s too big to move. Andrew helps with a lot of it, spending most of his free time at Steven’s apartment, watching how it goes from cozy and lived-in to barren in the span of a few weeks. They ease into a comfortable rhythm, only discussing the good things that will come from the move, and trying not to linger too much on how much everything will change.

“You can see David whenever you want now,” Andrew teased one night, when they were sitting on the living room floor, because the couch had already been sold at that point. Old yearbooks and photo albums were scattered around them in organized chaos.

“I’ll be eating fried chicken and caviar every night, baby,” Steven said, and they laughed, ignoring the dull ache that seemed to shroud the room.

There was no point in moping. Not when there was so little time left.

The decision wasn’t a bad one, and Andrew would never stop Steven from pursuing something like this, but the inevitability of his departure still twisted in Andrew’s gut like a knife. And as much as Steven seemed unsure, he seemed just as excited about it, too.

When they’re not packing, they’re going on dates, or staying in and watching movies, or crashing into bed and mapping out each other’s bodies, desperate to memorize everything they had taken for granted. They take their time, holding onto each other, not quite ready to let go yet.

Each time Steven kisses him, it’s like they’re dying, like they’ll never see each other again. It’s horribly melodramatic, but Andrew has never done anything by halves, and that includes a situation like this. They mourn and dance and laugh and Andrew thinks he’s ready for the day he has to drop Steven off at the airport. He’s prepared for it as best he can.

It’s still the hardest thing he’s ever done.

Andrew refuses to cry when he walks with Steven to get his bags checked, holding tight to his hand like Steven will disappear if he lets go. The attendant is kind, almost to the point of pity with the way she watches them interact, and it makes Andrew feel sick. He wonders how many people she sees like this, how many tearful goodbyes and heartfelt embraces she’s been witness to.

“I’ve always hated saying goodbye,” Steven says, when they move on to security. The line is long and slow moving, and Steven’s flight is in an hour. He desperately needs to go, but he makes no move to let go of Andrew’s hand.

“I know. I thought you were going to cry when you said goodbye to Riceball last week.” Andrew gives his hand a comforting squeeze.

That makes Steven smile, mouth curving upward, almost against his will. “I’m going to be a mess on the plane,” he says, and then moves forward, pulling Andrew into a crushing embrace. Andrew kisses his temple.

“That’s why I made you pack tissues in your carry-on,” he says, heart twinging at Steven’s wet laugh.

They hold each other for a moment, soaking everything in. People are bustling past them, talking on their phones in rushed voices, adding to the mounting buzz of noise. Andrew squeezes his eyes shut, takes a deep breath, and then pulls away.

“I have something for you, before you go,” he says, watching how Steven quickly wipes at his eyes with his sleeves. He shoves a hand into his pocket, closing his fingers around the key to his apartment.

Steven’s key.

“If it’s going to make me cry more, I don’t want it,” Steven says.

“Oh, it’s going to make you cry so hard, you should probably go buy more tissues before you get on your flight.”

“ _Andrew_.”

Andrew smiles, and grabs Steven’s wrist, making him flatten out his palm so that he can press the key into it. “To the apartment. If you ever need a place to come back to,” he says, right before he leans up and kisses him, slow and sweet and agonizingly soft.

When they break apart, Steven looks dazed, gripping the key tight enough that Andrew can practically feel it cutting into his skin.

“Andrew…” Steven murmurs, dumbfounded, and the sound of it is nearly lost when a someone passes them with a crying baby. “I…why?”

Andrew inhales, his heart beating against his ribs.

“Because,” he says. He reaches forward and grips Steven’s shirt, twisting his fingers into the soft fabric. “I was going to ask you to move in the night you told me you got the job offer.”

Steven’s eyes get almost comically wide, a horrified look passing across his face. Andrew can see fresh tears welling up. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he whispers.

“Because if I asked, you wouldn’t have taken the job. And you needed to take this job.”

Steven sways a little bit, looking nauseous.

“I think I made a mistake,” he says. There’s an edge of panic to his voice, and Andrew is quick to reach forward, pulling Steven against him again.

“Don’t,” Andrew says, as Steven presses his face into the side of his throat. “Your future isn’t a mistake.”

“ _You’re_ my future. And I’m leaving you behind.”

They sway together for a moment, Steven’s words sinking in. Maybe it was unfair of Andrew to spring it on him at the last moment, when Steven was finally all ready to move onto the next chapter of his life, having come to terms with what it meant for their relationship.

“You’re not leaving me behind. You’re my future, too, and I want you to be the best that you can be. And that means you needed to take this job.” Andrew pulls back again, leveling Steven with the most heartfelt look he can manage. “You’re still my boyfriend. No matter how many miles there are between us.”

Steven closes his eyes. Andrew uses his thumb to wipe away the stray tears leaking down his cheeks.

“Say that again?” he asks.

Something about the question eases Andrew’s mind, just a little bit. They’ll be alright.

“You’ll start crying if I do,” he says, which makes Steven pout.

“I’m _already_ crying.”

“Yeah, and it’ll only get worse if I repeat myself.” Andrew’s hand slips down from Steven’s face, tracing down his arm, until they’re holding hands with the key pressed between their palms. “I love you, Steven.”

Steven has to board his plane in less than an hour. He needs to go. He leans forward instead.

“I love you, Andrew.”

 

* * *

 

Steven’s only in New York for a few weeks before he flies back to L.A. for VidCon and the start of filming for season five.

It feels like an eternity, either way.

Ryan actually goes to pick Steven up from the airport, because his landing time overlaps with the block they have scheduled to start filming season two of Eating Your Feed. Andrew’s antsy the entire time, barely paying attention to the sugary-sweet coffee monstrosity he’s supposed to be making with Niki. She ends up doing all of the hardest steps, leaving Andrew to blend the cold coffee with the vanilla ice cream they had picked up the day prior.

He’s so zoned out, concentrating on the clock on the other side of the room, that he misses when one of the studio doors slides open and a suspiciously lanky figure slips in, hiding in the shadows.

“Okay,” Niki says, holding a fancy milkshake glass in one hand while she uses the other to scroll through the instructions on her laptop, “it says we’re supposed to use melted fudge to coat the rim of the glass, but we’re lazy, so…”

She trails off suddenly, glancing towards the door, and then towards Andrew, pointedly raising an eyebrow. Andrew just about gives himself whiplash from how fast he turns his head.

“Steven?!” he says, loud enough that Annie winces from where she’s running sound.

“And that’s a wrap for now,” Adam murmurs, setting his camera down on the counter and Andrew bolts across the room, throwing himself onto Steven, messy apron and all.

“You’re going to stain my clothes,” Steven says, but he still catches Andrew in a tight hug anyway, pulling them together. It doesn’t even matter that they’re in the studio, or that the cameras are still technically rolling, because Andrew can finally breathe easy again.

It feels like a weight lifts from his shoulders.

“Fuck your clothes,” Andrew says, right before he kisses Steven, threading his fingers through his hair.

Niki wolf-whistles, but other than that, the rest of the crew leaves them be. There’s shuffling behind them as they start to clean up the excess mess, taking an unofficial break as Andrew and Steven start to untangle themselves from one another.

Andrew didn’t realize how agonizing it had been, to be apart from one another for so long. The ache had grown muted with each passing day, surging up each time they texted or called one another, but otherwise Andrew was able to compartmentalize everything rather well.

It also helped that he adopted a kitten a few days after Steven left.

“Your hair,” Andrew mumbles when they pull apart, trailing his fingers along Steven’s temples, until he’s cupping his cheeks. It’s mostly black now, with wisps of silver throughout, just enough to make Steven glow.

“Decided it’d be easier to take care of like this, with the move and all.” Steven leans into Andrew’s palms. “You don’t like it?”

“Never said that.”

Steven smiles, and it’s as blinding as ever. It makes Andrew want to wrap him up and take him home, never letting him go. He’s only in town for a little bit though, and Andrew knows better than to wish for unrealistic things.

“You look good. Really good.” Andrew kisses him again, and then shifts back, patting away the ground coffee that had smeared across Steven’s sweatshirt.

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Andrew says. “You’re beautiful.”

Later, if anyone were to ask, Andrew would admit that he only said it to get one response.

Steven absolutely lights up, grinning from ear to ear. “Say that again,” he says, right before he swoops down and starts pressing small kisses across Andrew’s face.

Andrew scrunches up his nose, leaning away from the assault, even though it’s making his heart flutter like he’s a teenager again. They’re in the office though, and Andrew’s never been incredibly keen on public displays of affection.

Especially not when Adam could potentially catch all of it on camera and use it for blackmail.

“Absolutely not,” Andrew says, after Steven gives him one last kiss on the forehead. It’s easy, a comfortable routine that puts Andrew at ease.

“You’ll indulge me eventually,” Steven says, right before he steps away. Niki and Rie come in for a hug next, looking amused at the onslaught of affection Andrew just received. It makes him blush.

“In your dreams,” Andrew says. Adam pats him on the back in a silent show of support.

“What if it is?” Steven teases, before he throws his arms around Adam and drags him into a bear hug. Adam mumbles a soft “it’s good to see you, Steven.”

“What?” Andrew asks, taking a step back towards the kitchen. They technically have a video to finish, and the ice cream-coffee concoction will melt if they don’t work quickly. “Me saying sappy shit to you?”

“I mean, yes,” Steven trails after him, stopping to hug Annie, too. Andrew doesn’t know if the Worth It-slash-Eating Your Feed crew has ever hugged so much. “But also you repeating something when I ask you too.”

“Maybe you’ll get lucky one of these days and I actually will.”

“Is that a promise?” Steven shoots back, quick on his feet.

Andrew gives him a sly grin. “More like a wait-and-see kinda thing,” he says.

They just look at each other, smiling stupidly, and Andrew’s not even bothered when Rie whips out her phone and gets a picture of it. Andrew likes being able to look back on moments like this, where it’s just them and their friends, without their relationship aired out for the entire world to see.

Later that night, when Steven’s laying with his head on Andrew’s chest, Rie texts him the picture, as well as a small smiley face. Andrew strokes his fingers against Steven’s back, and doesn’t hesitate to make it his phone background.

 

* * *

 

It’s actually harder, the second time Steven leaves. After VidCon, they throw themselves into the process of filming _Worth It_ , hopping around various restaurants in L.A. before Steven has to head back to New York. After that it’s a few weeks of meeting up in random places around the country, saying tearful goodbyes, only to see each other the next weekend.

It doesn’t get easier, but Andrew gets used to it. He gets used to rushed kisses and holding hands when they’re not on camera, soaking up the brief time they get to spend together. They share hotel rooms and pretend that it’s like they’re home again, even when they’re in Malaysia and India, where the heat is almost unbearable, but they still can’t keep their hands off of each other.

They celebrate their one year anniversary in Andrew’s apartment, when Steven has to leave the very next day. It’s quiet and small, to the point that they don’t even get each other gifts, because just being together is more than enough.

(Andrew works a series of hickies into Steven’s thighs, and when they’re basking in the afterglow, he presses his fingers into one of them and tells Steven that those were his anniversary gifts. Steven just smacks him on the shoulder and complains about how sore he’s going to be for the flight home.)

Afterwards, when they’ve wrapped up post-production, and the season premiere goes live, Andrew gets… antsy. They don’t start filming season six until mid-November, but that’s a ways away.

A long ways away.

“Hey,” Andrew says, when they’re eating dinner together over FaceTime. He’s nervous, fork nearly slipping from his hand due to how clammy they are. It’s not like they haven’t talked about visiting each other outside of work, and it’d be really nice to not have any obligations when they’re spending time with each other, but.

It’s still nerve-wracking.

Steven hums, the sound tinny and full of static. That was Steven’s biggest complaint about New York, that the wifi wasn’t nearly as good as it was in Los Angeles. Andrew had decided not to comment on that, despite the fact it didn’t make any sense.

“Can I, um, come visit soon?” he asks, pushing the roasted asparagus around on his plate. “I know we have a shoot in a couple months, but I really miss you.”

That makes Steven light up, and even the poor connection can’t hide how beautiful his smile is.

“Of course you can come visit, Andrew. I miss you more than you can even imagine.”

“I think I can imagine it a little bit,” Andrew says, as he pauses FaceTime to go look at plane tickets, trying to do mental math of what dates would work best and make the most sense with the airline prices.

And so over the next few weeks Andrew packs, and books the plane tickets, and listens to Steven chatter about all of the things they can do while he’s visiting, all the places they can go and people they can meet. It puts his mind at ease, anxiety seeping out of him with each passing day, replaced with excitement instead.

They agree to spend the first day alone, in Steven’s apartment, just the two of them. It’s hard to keep their hands off of each other when Andrew gets there, skin buzzing from proximity, and insatiable urge to reach out and _touch_ so strong it makes him dizzy.

“I wish you could have brought Wellington,” Steven says, when they’re in the elevator at his complex. “I miss him, he’s gotten so big, and—oh!”

Steven stops talking when they reach his floor, and Andrew watches as he digs around in his pocket as they step out of the elevator. He’s got an intense look on his face, tongue just barely poking out between his teeth. It’s beyond endearing.

He lets out a little “aha!” when he manages to find whatever he was looking for. They stop in front of Steven’s door, and he turns on his heels, a silver chain dangling from his hand.

“I got you this. To, um, match mine.”

With his free hand, Steven tugs down the collar of his pink sweater, revealing an identical silver chain, with a key dangling from the end. Andrew’s breath catches.

“Is that…?”

Steven nods, biting his lip. “The key to your apartment, yeah. And this one has a key to mine on it.”

He hands Andrew the necklace. It’s heavy and warm, the weight comforting as Andrew turns it over in his palm. He can feel tears starting to sting the back of his eyes.

“Steven,” he says, softly, full of affection. It’s easy to slip it on, tucking it beneath his shirt. Right over his heart.

“I wanted to return the sentiment, you know?” Steven shifts on his heels, nervous. “In case you ever need a place to come home to in New York.”

It takes every fiber of Andrew’s being not to drop his bags and push Steven up against the door to his apartment, kissing him in full view of all of his neighbors. Instead he just nods and bites the inside of his cheek, following after Steven when he unlocks his door and they go inside.

Once the door clicks shut, though, it’s a whole different ball game. Andrew drops his suitcase by the in-table, throwing his phone and keys alongside Steven’s, and then they’re dragging each other into the bedroom, unable to keep their hands off each other.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” Andrew mumbles into Steven’s mouth, shoving his hands into Steven’s hair. It just makes Steven laugh, toeing off his shoes as they practically crash onto his bed, tangled up in each other.

“The feeling’s mutual,” Steven mumbles. He tugs at Andrew’s jacket, until it’s piled on the floor, and then Andrew’s sucking a wet kiss onto the column of his throat, and they’re quiet, at least for a little while.

It’s not always like this, when they meet up after spending a few weeks apart. Sometimes they just curl up and sleep, holding onto each other, like they’ll drift apart if they let go. Sometimes it’s gentle, sometimes it’s rough, but it’s always emotional. They’re overflowing with love, choking on it, basking in it.

“I love you,” Andrew says, slotting his knee between Steven’s legs. “I love you so much it physically hurts sometimes, because you’re the only thing I can ever think about.”

Steven gasps, twisting his hands into the back of Andrew’s shirt, the thin cotton bunching between his fingers. He’s red-faced, flushed all the way down his neck, and it only gets worse when Andrew starts peppering kisses across his jawline.

“Say that again,” Steven says. His voice is garbled, pitched higher than usual, the words wrapping around Andrew’s heart and squeezing like a vice.

And, fuck, Andrew’s denied him so much already, but not this. Not ever again.

“I love you,” he repeats, punctuating the statement when he runs his lips down just below Steven’s ear. Steven jolts, squeezing Andrew’s leg between his own, which makes Andrew shudder in turn. He nudges his knee up a little bit, just to hear the way Steven groans.

And, Christ, Andrew’s soft, okay? He’s so soft, so pliable to whatever Steven wants. He’d move the sun and the moon for him, pull down the stars and turn them into Christmas lights, if Steven asked. The realization leaves Andrew breathless.

“I love you _so much_ ,” he says again, voice cracking a little bit at the end. He kisses Steven’s throat, right over his pulse, and then drags his teeth across the same spot. They’re so close, closer than they ever were in California, and Andrew hates the thought that he’s going to be leaving soon. But there’s no reason to think about that, not when he just got there, not when they’re just getting started.

“ _Andrew_ ,” Steven moans. He turns his head and presses a lingering kiss to Andrew’s cheek. It’s such a simple act, something they’ve done time and time again in public, but right now, it feels like more than words can describe. “I love you, too. More than anything.”

Andrew smiles, ignoring the wetness around his eyes, and pushes his hands just beneath the hem of Steven’s shirt. He wants to feel him all over, wants to savor the moment while they still have it. He wants to kiss Steven again and again and again, until there’s nothing else, until the end of the world.

Andrew pulls back, just a little bit, just enough that Steven tries to follow. His hair is all messed up, flopped over his forehead and sticking up at odd angles from where Andrew had been carding his fingers through it. He looks properly debauched, and they’ve barely done anything.

It’s the most endearing thing Andrew’s ever seen.

“Steven,” he whispers, reaching up to trace his thumb along the swell of Steven’s cheek. The way he shivers sends sparks up Andrew’s spine.

“Hm?”

“ _Say that again_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are much appreciated.
> 
> Feel free to point out any mistakes or inaccuracies. 
> 
> Come talk to me on my [tumblr](https://worthitandchill.tumblr.com/)!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] the hole in my heart (my whole heart)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15936167) by [Shmaylor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shmaylor/pseuds/Shmaylor)




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